The End
by Fish-Inton
Summary: a one shot fic: the end, the way I've made it! [wicked grin] not really romance, somewhere in between really. ENJOY!


Disclaimer: I do not own any of Thomas Harris' characters used in this work of fiction, nor do I own InMe, this one's for Laura... (JOE!) any other bands mentioned herein: Good Charlotte, Linkin' Park, Marilyn Manson, Simple Plan, The Smurfs do not belong to me either or scrabble.  
  
A/N: What can I say? I've got an idea for a different ending... for book or movie I have no idea because... well, it follows both. Based on a 'what if?' situation: What if Clarice hadn't been shot at Muskrat Farm? How would it change the ending?  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
Clarice Ctarling, newly suspended from duty, moved stealthily to the door of the large barn in Muskrat Farm. Screams pierced the air. It took a moment for her to realise that the screams did not belong to Doctor Lecter, her reason for being there. Then there were voices, speaking in a language unfamiliar to Starling. She readied John Brigham's .45, safety off, as usual. She felt reassurance with the gun in her grip. Starling wasn't one to believe in heaven or hell, but she believed that John was watching her, she could almost feel his spirit in the gun she held. Clarice ran through the plan in her mind.  
  
~ He can probably smell me coming ~ she thought, then mentally slapped herself ~ mind on the mission, Starling! ~ she reminded herself. Starling sighed and slid the wooden door to the back of the barn open. The .45 boomed in the enclosure of the barn, buying her some time to check out the situation. She first saw two men, 'little and large', she saw the Doctor in the corner of her eye, but did not acknowledge his presence. She would not look at him, not yet. Then there was the squealing. Pigs. Behind another, weak-looking, wooden barn door was a lot of pigs. Big pigs. Starling turned her attentions back to the men.  
  
"Hands up and freeze. Turn off the motor." she commanded, her voice strong and steady. The men, however, did not seem to understand her instructions. Starling considered dropping the gun and explaining what she said in the form of charades. Thankfully, an alternative presented itself before she did.  
  
"Fermate il motore." Doctor Lecter's familiar rasp explained to the two blank-faced men from behind his mask. Starling nodded to the men and waited, not looking at the Doctor. There was movement then, the larger of the two turned off the motor. The other, shorter man, took this distraction as an opportunity to take a pot shot at Starling. But she was wise to his game and shot him twice in the head before he could get a decent aim.  
  
"You," she gestured to the live man, "on the floor, now." Once again, the man was blank-faced.  
  
"Girati dall' altra parte." Doctor Lecter helpfully explained from his forklift once again. Was that amusement in his voice?  
  
When the man complied, Starling cuffed his wrist to the dead guy's ankle, and his ankle to the dead man's wrist, .45 on the ready all the time.  
  
With the immediate dangers gone, Starling turned her attentions to the Doctor. Strangely, even though he was tied to a forklift, he did not seem vulnerable. It was almost as if he was going to leap from his bonds at any moment. But he did't.  
  
She dared not look into his eyes for fear of losing herself. Instead, she busied herself with her bootknife and approached him.  
  
"Good evening, Clarice." he said as she stepped towards him. She knew he'd sensed her coming outside, long before she entered the barn.  
  
"Can you walk, are your legs working?" she asked, not bothering with the pleasantries for the moment.  
  
"Yes. Nice to know you care."  
  
"Can you see alright?" she questioned further, ignoring his previous comment.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm going to cut you loose. With all due respect, Doctor, if you fuck with me I'll shoot you dead, here and now. Do you understand that?" Clarice noted his raised eyebrows.  
  
"Perfectly." he replied, somewhat bluntly.  
  
"Do right and you'll live through this." she said, cutting through the rope with the serated edge of her bootknife.  
  
"Spoken like a true Protestant." his right arm was free. "Things might move a little faster if you hand me the knife." she hesitated but knew he was right and handed him the knife.  
  
A mmovement in the hayloft caused Clarice's attention to shift from Doctor Lecter. Automatically, her gun arm rose and shot at the movement in the hayloft. ~ I will shoot myself if that was a pigeon ~ she thought. But with several bundles of hay, another man, clutching a tranquiliser gun, fell to the floor of the barn. Dead.   
  
The Doctor was free, he tossed Clarice her knife and held up his hands as a sign to show he was unarmed. Starling moved behind him and put her gun a few inches from his back.  
  
"Let's get outta the barn and to my car." she said, remembering the spare set of cuffs in the Mustang. The squeals of the pigs, who had not ceased their noise, became louder. The Good Doctor moved towards the exit of the barn but something stopped him. At a speed and manoeuvre Clarice could not follow, Lecter grabbed the .45 from her grasp and shot Mason Verger and Cordell Doemling in the head. Clarice stared, open mouthed, at the Doctor. He turned, handed her the gun and turned back around.  
  
"Shall we, Special Agent Starling?"  
  
"We shall." she mumbled as they continued to walk out of the barn. Clarice closed the wooden barn door as the pigs broke through their barrier. Dinner time.  
  
"How far is your car, Clarice?" Doctor Lecter questioned, removing his mask.  
  
"A couple of miles from here." she replied honestly. There really was no point in lying about the location of her car. They walked in silence for five whole minutes until Clarice broke the silence with a sudden outburst. "I told you so! I tild you Mason Verger wanted to kill you! But did you listen? Noooo..." she quietened again.  
  
"Thank you for your... frankness, Agent Starling." was Lecter's reply to her outburst.  
  
"Sorry, I know that was kinda rude. But I warned you and all you did was lead me on a wild goose chase around Union Station."  
  
"Shall we continue this elsewhere? I can see your car from here." he said. Clarice thought for a moment.  
  
"Okay." she shrugged and continued to walk, .45 at the Doctor's back.  
  
Clarice opened the door to the passenger side of the Mustang. The Doctor sat. she reached into the back seat and found her cuffs.  
  
"Wrists please." she said bluntly. He complied without complaint. She cuffed him to the door handle and shut the door.  
  
~ Real creative, Starling... ~ she thought sarcastically. ~ Shut up. I'm doing this my way! ~ she replied to the thought. Clarice slid into the driver's seat and started up the engine. With the lights off, she drove along the old fire road. There was silence in the car. The Doctor shifted in his seat a little.  
  
"Something wrong, Doctor Lecter?" she asked, noticing the shiftiness.  
  
"Yes, but it's nothing you should concern yourself with."  
  
"Come on, what is it?"  
  
"You really want to know?" she nodded. "I have a thistle in my backside." he looked out of the window. His ears were red.  
  
Clarice chuckled. Clarice giggled. Clarice laughed. Clarice giggled again and couldn't stop, so she bit down on her knuckles.  
  
"That's... interesting." she said when she finally stopped laughing.  
  
"I told you so! I told you you shouldn't have asked!" he mimicked her precisely. Clarice shut up for a while. "Where exactly are we going?"  
  
"No idea." she replied, pulling on to the highway.  
  
"I have a place not too far away."  
  
"Oh, no. Not that trick." he looked at her quizzically. "If I say 'oh, sure thing, to your place it is', I'm gonna be at an immediate disadvantage. You'll know your way around and I'll... not know my way around."  
  
"Ahh... a good argument. So, where to?"  
  
"Erm..." she thought for a second. ~ Not to the locals, not the FBI, I'm suspended. Hmmm... my place? Delia's not gonna be back for a while and... ~ she made her decision. "My place."  
  
"Yours? Doesn't that give me the immediate disadvantage?"  
  
"Yes, but you're the bad guy. It works." she nodded. He chuckled. "What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Fine." the next six minutes were spent in silence. Then the Doctor spoke again.  
  
"Clarice?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Could we possibly put a CD on?"  
  
"I doubt you'll like what I've got." she reached across to the glove compartment and pulled out a CD wallet. "Let's see," she said, flipping through the CDs and keeping her eyes on the road at the same time. "I have... Good Charlotte, Linkin' Park, Marilyn Manson, InMe, Simple Plan, The Smurfs..."  
  
"Hmmm... I've never heard InMe before..." the Doctor said, "why not put that on."  
  
"Sure." she said and put the CD in the player. Track one started.  
  
"I don't know how to fit inside  
  
All you do is try to leave me behind  
  
I don't know what to do  
  
Something's killing me  
  
I don't know how to turn you on  
  
All you do is try and lead me on  
  
I don't know what to do  
  
Something here is telling me to kill you  
  
It's all gone wrong   
  
It's all gone wrong  
  
It's broken perfect fumes  
  
It's all gone wrong  
  
It's all gone wrong  
  
It's broken..."  
  
Surprisingly, Doctor Lecter was nodding his head in time to the music.  
  
"You like it?" Clarice questioned. Realising he had been caught, Lecter stopped noding his head.  
  
"It's tolerable."  
  
"That was a lie and you know it."  
  
"It was not a lie. I merely omitted certain truths from my reply."  
  
"Yeah, right, whatever."  
  
"Indeed..." the CD skipped through to track six, true to the prgramme list.  
  
"I could cry  
  
My time has come  
  
And I am stupid, forever sad  
  
Is it you God telling me to go away?  
  
Is it you God telling me to leave this place?  
  
But I thought I could combine with you  
  
And I need you all the time  
  
And I thought it was okay with you  
  
Her mask is in my dreams at night  
  
But I thought I could escape with you  
  
Planet asylum keeps me down..."   
  
Dave McPherson continued to belt out lyrics as Joe Morgan and Simon Taylor filled in the blanks with the Bass and Drums.  
  
"Interesting album..." Doctor Lecter commented.  
  
"Yeah. I got all the singles and B-sides so far except the 'Underdose' one. I can't find it anywhere... not even on e-bay!"  
  
"Hmmm... how long 'til we are at your... duplex." he queried.  
  
"How did you know..."  
  
"Don't bother asking."  
  
"I won't... about five minutes." Clarice said bluntly.  
  
~ Has he been in my house? If he has... ~  
  
Five minutes passed, Clarice reversed the Mustang into the driveway and got out of the car. she went to Lecter's side and looked him in the eye. ~ Don't you blink, man? DON'T YOU BLINK?! ~ she stressed in her head the fact that he never blinked.  
  
"I'm going to uncuff you and leave the cuffs off if you give me your word that you will not harm me or try to run." she said. He considered her words carefully.  
  
"You have my word and my parole."  
  
"Goody Goody." she said bluntly and uncuffed him. Rubbing his wrists, the Good Doctor stepped from the car and slammed the car door shut. Clarice locked the doors and led the way around the back to the kitchen entrance. When she turned to face Doctor Lecter again, outside the back door, she explained to him why they were at the back door. "It's in case somebody sees you and the lock on the front door is stiff and in case Delia's indoors. The front door squeaks mighty loud this time of year."   
  
"Oh... right." he said simply as if he were elsewhere.  
  
"Yeah... so, let's go." Clarice unlocked the back door to the kitchen carefully and slipped inside. "Wait here for a second." she whispered out to him. While to Doctor stood outside, Starling went to the side of the duplex belonging to Ardelia Mapp and checked to see if she was at home. "Delia? Delia?" Clarice called out to the darkness of the duplex. No sound. She checked Mapp's room. Nope. She checked her side of the duplex, in case Mapp was folding clothes or ironing. Nope.  
  
~ In the dark?! Psh.. yah... and you're not insane ~ the little voice in her head had returned. ~ would you just go away! ~ she replied to the voice. It was as if she had two people living in her head at times. Clarcie shook her head and returned to the Doctor outside. He was squatted on the floor, leaning with his back against the wall, eyes closed. Clarice hated to spoil his moment outside, he looked rather peaceful, as if he didn't know she was there. But he did. He opened his eyes in his own time and looked at her with those piercing maroon eyes of his.  
  
"It's clear, nobody home." she said.  
  
"Is anybody going to be home?" he queried casually.  
  
"Not likely." Clarice said and moved aside for him to squeeze past her in the doorway.  
  
"Good goody." he said to her and looked around the kitchen. "Are you hungry."  
  
"Not very." she replied. Her stomach, however, had a completely different reply voiced as a rather low grumble.  
  
"It would appear that your stomach has a somewhat different opinion." the Doctor commented.  
  
"Maybe I'm a little hungry." Clarice conceeded  
  
Her stomach growled louder.  
  
"A litte more hungry than that?"  
  
Her stomach growled louder.  
  
"FINE!" she said to her stomach, "yes, it's quite possible that I-" a growl, "WE are hungry!" she finished. There was silence.  
  
"Okey Dokey, here we go." he said with eyes that flashed and said to her: 'you're insane, you know'  
  
"I'm not crazy." she said.  
  
"I didn't say you were."  
  
"No, but you were thinking it. Your eyes show it."  
  
"They do?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"How... interesting. Thank you for the compliment, if it was one."  
  
"Hey, whatever, you know..."  
  
"I do not think you are insane, Clarice, although that little episode did worry me for a second."  
  
"Myself and my stomach are not always on the best of terms with each other."  
  
"Understandably so." he said as he nosed through her 'snack cupboard' stuffed full of Snickers and Mars bars. "Umm... Clarice... do you have any REAL food?"  
  
"What's that? I've never heard of REAL food before." she replied. "You're looking in the snack cupboard. I suggest the one next to it." she gestured to the cupboard next to the snack stash. He opened it and was greeted with several microwave dinners, a jar of tikka massala sauce and two packets of dried pasta, ready to cook (just add milk and water! *memories of lunch*)  
  
"Nope. No real food." he said, closing the cabinet.  
  
"Settle for coffee?" she asked, receiving a nod in reply. She went to another cupboard. "Delia and me kept these for occasions. I guess this is sort of an occasion and it's better than instant." Clarice said, retrieving a jar of coffee beans from the cupboard.  
  
"Ahh... no real food, but real coffee." the Doctor's eyes lit up as he caught a whiff of the strong coffee smell. (*author goes high on coffee smell*... look at the pretty flamingo on the ceiling fan!)  
  
Clarice finished making the coffee with Doctor Lecter's supervision and led him to the living room, where they sat in silence, sipping their coffee, for a few minues. Clarice was first to break the silence.  
  
"Doctor Lecter?"  
  
"Mmmm?"  
  
"When we were back at the farm, walking to my car, you said we'd continue the conversation elsewhere. Would now be a good time?"  
  
He sighed deeply, "I suppose so. Where do you want to begin?"  
  
"Why did you not believe me when I told you Mason Verger was going to kill you? And why, at Union Station, even when you knew those men were coming for you, did you not go when I told you?"  
  
"First answer. You said he wanted to kill me, not that he WAS going to kill me. You simply... misled me."  
  
"Psh... yah, right." she noticed his darkened expression. "I mean... go on."  
  
"Second answer. We had a conversation to finish. It would have been incredibly rude of me to leave it unfinished, don't you think?"  
  
"Not really. I mean, you couldn't have just hopped in the car or whatever your mode of transport was and continued to conversation like that?!"  
  
"No... I think Union Station was a much more interesting place to hold a conversation over the phone." he shrugged.  
  
"But what if-"  
  
He held up a hand to silence her.  
  
"I do not care to waste my time on hypothetical situations, Clarice."  
  
"Fine. I'll rephrase it. What did you want me to do there? Did you want me to eventually find you there?"  
  
"Eventually, but Masons 'goons' showed up and I was caught up in all the action. A tad inconvenient, don't you agree?"   
  
"Just a tad."  
  
"Good, at least we agree on something."  
  
There was a minute of silence. Then Doctor Lecter noticed something on the shelf.  
  
"Scrabble, Clarice?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Care for a game of scrabble?"  
  
"Scrabble?" she thought for a second "sure."  
  
~ You're playing scrabble with the FBIs most wanted fugitive... oh, joy! ~ the voice returned ~ I thought I told you to shut up! ~ she replied, now agitated by the voice in her head. Doctor Lecter had gotten the board game down from the shelf and was studying the dust covered box.  
  
"I see you haven't played this in some time."  
  
"A few years ago."  
  
"That's some time."  
  
"You and I don't reckon time the same way, Doctor, or so you informed me in Memphis."  
  
"People change, Clarice." they locked eyes. Was that pleading she saw in his eyes? For what? Scrabble? Or was it something more? The silence in the room was almost deafening.  
  
"So," she said, "are we gonna play this game or what?" she questioned, sitting on the floor.  
  
"If you're ready to loose." he shrugged and sat on the floor, removing the box lid carefully so as not to disturb the thick layer of dust covering it. He removed the board and set it out on the carpet.l They took their pieces and the game began.  
  
"I will not loose, Doctor."  
  
"I'm sure you won't." he said, the amusement evident in his voice. "You first." Clarice shook her head.  
  
~ no no, Cannibals first. What are we gonna do? Hmmm? Do we A) turn him in, B) let him go, C) kill him or D) go with him... which I know I can't do! And he ain't gonna make it any easier... ~  
  
"Guests first... or fugitives... or possibly hostages... or maybe even Doctors of the medical profession!"  
  
"So, I'll go first." He said, laying the first word. AGENT. Clarice took her turn. CANNIBAL, set on the vertical, at the N of AGENT.  
  
C  
  
A  
  
N  
  
AGENT  
  
I  
  
B  
  
A  
  
L  
  
And so the game continued. As predicted by the Good Doctor, he won. Clarice sulked.  
  
"Just because you lost this time." he said, not teasing, just informing her in some indirect way, that it wasn't a bad thing that she lost.  
  
"Yeah. Mind you, now I can say 'I played scrabble with Doctor Lecter!' so it's a bonus in some ways." she said, making him chuckle. "Doctor Lecter?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have a confession." ~ now or never, Clarice. ~  
  
"I know."  
  
"Oh, joy. Umm... I can't, although I might try... I just can't..." she shook her head and looked away, looked at the newspaper on the table.  
  
"Clarice, I know you can't. And I know that even if you did, there'd be nothing for you. What do you think you'd get? Hmmm? You think they'd give you a medal, Clarice? And would you have it professionally framed and hang it on the wall out there in the hall by the phone? Hmmm? What would it do, Clarice? Would it be there to remind you of how incorruptible you are? Would it be a symbol of courage? Do you think you'd get past that glass ceiling you hit so long ago? Just by 'turning me in'? Hmmm? What would it do? I'll be getting the needle this time, Clarice... what will you do when I'm gone? Where's the thrill of the chase then? You can't deny, can you, that you love it when we play these cat and mouse games of ours... it gives you something to do that actually seems worthwhile, doesn't it?"  
  
"Why do you keep on calling me Clarice every other sentence?"  
  
"because it's who you are, now, I'm waiting for answers."  
  
"I know that there'd be nothing for me. They'd give me a medal, and I'd have it professionally framed and hang it on the wall. But it wouldn't remind me my courage and incorruptibility, it'd remind me of... you. I haven't got a hope in Hell's chance of getting past the glass now or ever. And yes, I do so love it when we play these cat and mouse games of ours... it seems it gives us both something to do. But I can't turn you in." she said, answering his questions gradually.  
  
"Hmmm... what to do?" Clarice made her decision, she stood up, grabbed his arm and dragged him outside. She opened the garage door, revealing a large coverd object. She whipped the cover off, it was his old Bentley.  
  
"Clarice, how did you..."  
  
"Don't ask... just go." she said, looking into his eyes, both not revealing anything. "Don't speak, just go. Don't come back, just go." she said and went into the house. He followed her. She ran upstairs.  
  
"Clarice." he called, his voice returning to the rasp it once had at Memphis, when he had called her back for the case file.  
  
"GO!" she yelled from the bathroom. Lecter made short work of the lock and entered the bathroom to find her tucked in the corner, holding back the tears.   
  
"Clarice." his voice softened. How he loved to say that name.   
  
"Why are you doing this? Just go!" she said stubbornly.  
  
"I cannot leave without saying one last goodbye, come here." he said, helping her stand. She wiped her eyes and looked him in the face.  
  
"I want you to go and never return. If you send me anymore letters requesting replies in newspapers, I won't reply to it, nor will I turn it in. I will burn it. Please, just go." she begged the Doctor, fresh tears working their way down her cheeks. He pulled her to him and embraced her.   
  
"Clarice. I shall do whatever you request." he brightened the mood slightly, "what do you think about christmas cards?" she laughed slightly.  
  
"Just... just go... okay?" she said to him, pulling away from the hug.  
  
"I am gone, Agent Starling, forever." he said, approaching her and giving her a tender kiss on the forehead, so as not to offend. "Ciao." he said, giving a slow wave as he backed out of the bathroom, walking down the stairs and out to the car.  
  
"WAIT!" she called, "KEYS!" Clarice yelled and tossed them to him.  
  
"Thankyou, Special Agent Starling, t's been fun." he said and got into the car, feeling the smooth leather of the seat and the steering wheel. He smiled at the memory of his time in Clarice's car, spent saying 'hi' to the steering wheel.  
  
"Ex Special Agent." she whispered as Doctor Lecter started the engine of the old Bentley. He waved and smile a sad smile as he pulled out of the driveway. She went back indoors, sat on the sofa and cried. She cried herself to sleep that night, and the night after, and the night after that. Clarice cried herself to sleep for months, until she realised that it was silly, crying now. She made her decision and now she'd make herself a life. Bot she'd never forget Doctor Lecter.  
  
Clarice left the FBI behind and bought herself a nice little place in Washington, so she was still close to her friends Ardelia Mapp and Jack Crawford. That list soon shortened itself to Ardelia Mapp after Jack Crawford died of a heart attack. Clarice did not cry though, she never cried again, not until Christmas.  
  
Doctor Lecter had driven out of Washington. On the highway, he felt something warm on his cheek, reaching up, he felt it was wet. ~ Tears? From you? In all these years... you're crying? ~ the voice in his mead mocked him. ~ I'm only human ~ he replied and drove on. He'd go to Buenos Aires, perhaps Rome, maybe even Greece. He could possibly end up in London, or Hong-Kong... somewhere different.   
  
He left all behind and started a new life in England, in Eastwood, Essex. He lived his life as Doctor Anthony Morrick, M.D. Lecter, or Morrick, had his own practice down at Kent Elms. He had an entirely new set of friends, by no means in the upper class, although some were from the upper class of Leigh. He had found a few good quality restaurants, namely Mama Alfalfi, a nice Italian restaurant, run by Italians whom he soon became friends with. Doctor Morrick was enjoying himself. But Doctor Lecter never forgot Clarice.  
  
It was Christmas, Clarice was in her house alone while Ardelia went shopping for a few last minute things, namely cranberry sauce. Ardelia had insisted that all the girls go to Clarice's for a Christmas meal and well... girl talk. Clarice looked through the post. One envelope in particular stuck out like a sore thumb. The address was written in a fine copperplat script and she knew who it was from befoe she even opened it.   
  
Clarice took the letter into the living room and stoked the fire. She would burn it. After she'd read it though. Clarice opened the envelope. In the envelope was a card, no letter. The card was hand made ~ I wonder if HE made it... ~ it was a beautiful landscape at night in the country somewhere. In the foreground, three shepherds sat on the grass, each holding a lamb. The tears filled Clarice's eyes again, for the first time in almost a year. She opened the card, it read:  
  
DEAR CLARICE,  
  
HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A GOOD CHRISTMAS SO FAR,  
  
HOPE YOU GET ALL YOU WISH FROM OLD SAINT NICK...  
  
CONDOLENCES FOR JACK CRAWFORD.  
  
BEST WISHES AND LOTS OF LOVE,  
  
HANNIBAL  
  
x-x-x  
  
p.s: hope you like them...  
  
"Hope you like them?" Clarice repeated the post-script aloud, "what the-" she was cut short by the doorbell ringing.  
  
"Ummm... Ms. Starling?" the delivery guy asked uncertainly.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Package for you... well, two actually. Sign for them?" he asked, holding up a clipboard with a form.  
  
"Sure." she answered and signed the form. The delivery guy went back to his truck and brought out a package the size of a CD. He handed it to her and went to get the second, the second package, however, was not wrapped, it was a rather large bouquet of white roses.   
  
"Merry Christmas." he said and handed her the small card the roses came with.  
  
"You too!" she called out after him and shut the front door. Taking the roses, the card and the CD into the living room, she wondered exactly who it was who had sent them.  
  
~ 'hope you like them...' hmm... could it be? ~ she opened the CD first and almost danced around with joy. It was the InMe 'Underdose' single, the one she couldn't get! Clarice opened the case a crack to find a note and a polaroid photograph. Was that? IT WAS IT WAS!  
  
The photograph was of InMe with... Doctor Lecter! And the back of the photograph was signed by InMe! Dave, Joe and Simon! ~ WHOOP! ~ she punched the air (after putting the CD down, of course!)  
  
The small card with the roses, she opened it. It said:  
  
C,  
  
MERRY CHRISTMAS. USE IT WELL.  
  
LOVE,  
  
H  
  
x  
  
Taped to the side of the envelope was 1, 2, 3, nope... $400!!! Clarice almost feinted. She hid the card and the miniature envelope and card and found a vase for the roses. There were a dozen in total. Delia came through the front tdoor and saw Clarice, smiling like there was no tomorrow and arranging a lot of white roses in a vase.  
  
"Clarice! Who's the mystery guy?"  
  
"It's a mystery to me!" Clarice replied cheerfully, making sure the photo was still in her pocket. She never got a medal to have professionally framed, but she'd make sure the photo was.  
  
Clarice sat at her laptop after everybody, including Ardelia, had gone home (LAPTOPS ROCK!). She checked her inbox. She had a new message. It was from a man called Anthony Morrick.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" she asked, but her question was to be answered in a few simple moments.  
  
CLARICE,  
  
I TRUST YOU HAVE RECEIVED MY GIFTS TO YOU.  
  
I AM WELL, WHERE I AM LIVING I CANNOT TELL... IT'S A SECRET, YOU SEE.  
  
I HAVE A PRACTICE OF MY OWN AGAIN.  
  
I HOPE THIS E-MAIL FINDS YOU WELL, PERHAPS WE CAN KEEP IN CONTACT.  
  
I GAVE YOU MY WORD AND MY PAROLE THAT I WOULD NOT HARM YOU, CLARICE. BUT YOU NEVER DID ASK FOR MY WORD WHEN YOU ASKED ME NOT TO CONTACT YOU... WHAT A SLIP UP, EH?  
  
I MUST GO NOW, CHRISTMAS CELEBRATIONS HERE ARE RATHER EXTENSIVE...  
  
ALL MY LOVE,  
  
ANTHONY (OR SO THEY CALL ME...)  
  
x-x-x  
  
Clarice punched the air again and got to work on a reply. Sure they could stay in contact, they were old friends...   
  
But never more... 


End file.
